Names?
by sissannis
Summary: Two strangers met by total coincident and their friendship slowly but surely blossoms into something more.
1. Coffee

Disclaimer: No copyright

A/N: Hullo. This is my first submission ever so I'm nervous af and reviews on any improvement needed are welcome. I must warn you tho english is not my first language so grammar mistakes are bound to happen. Thank you for reading my first fanfic! Love all of you!

 **Chapter 1: Coffee**

He was just enjoying his morning read, sitting on his favourite bench when the rain started pouring down. "What theー" He flinched at the sound of lightning. And right after that it was now raining cat and dog. He joggedー gentleman don't runー while covering his head with the book he was reading. It was useless of course as the rain was too heavy. He looked for the closest roof he could find. His corner lips twitched upward when he saw the small simple cafe at the end of the park.

The cafe stood proudly among all the tall buildings on both its side. It was a two-storey small cottage, tho it seemed as if it would break with just a punch. It looked pretty dodgy from where he stood but yet once he walked closer he found the cottage was pretty sturdy. The red door was the only thing plastered on that front wall. No windows, no welcome signs, nothing else. What gave it away was the two small round table outside the porch where he stood now. He opened the door slowly and closed it noiselessly. Whatever he expected to find inside he was sure it wasn't this.

The small cafe was filled with warmth, a homey feels; one side of the walls has transformed into a tall shelf, full with books. And it looked like it wasn't enough because there was literally mountains of books on the floor. The other wall, the opposite to the shelf, was a glass wall. He could see the park he loves to come to from here. Cactuses and succulents plants were lined up on the floor. And some green plants, he had no idea what it was, hanged effortlessly; yet it looked perfect. It was as if the glass wall framed with plants and the park was the picture. There was a bar right across of the door. He surprised he didn't notice this first as he walked in. The shelf behind the bar was full with wines, red, white, only wines. There was also a coffee machine, a toaster, and a small freezer. Overall he liked it. He liked how serene it felt. Like as if it wasn't storming outside. He sat on one of the four small round table. There were seven table in total. Four small round table for two, and two rectangular table for six. He sat facing the door and only then he realized there was another shelf beside the door. But instead of more books, it filled with vinyl records. There was a vinyl record player too. He started to like the cafe more.

"Hello, may I help you?" A small cheerful voice called out to him from his back. He turned and saw no one. Then he heard a chuckle. "Look up." He raised his head and saw a bushy haired woman. She was wearing a yellow short sleeves floral-printed sundress. She was carrying two boxes that looked comical to him because they stacked on top of each other making them taller than her. He let out a small laugh looking at the picture. "It seems like you're the one who needs help, luv." He got up from his seat and advanced to her.

"Well, unless you're a gentleman then I ー" she didn't get to finish her sentence, he already took the boxes from her. She tilted her head to peek on her helper and when their eyes finally met, brown met grey, she smiled. "Why thank you, sir. That was really kind of you."

"Anything for you, beautiful." He winked. "So where do I put these?"

She looked down and scanned the room. "Just put it on one of the table, please? Watch your step!" She walked back to where she came out from. He walked down the stairs cautiously. His shoes made a funny sloshing sound, soaked from running in the rain. Once he put the boxes on his table, he cracked his neck and muttered, "I'm too old for this."

"Old? If that's how old look like then I can't wait to get old." She passed him a fluffy white towel and a change clothes. "There's a pair boxer and socks too. You need to change, mister. You're drenched. Go change upstairs and bring your wet clothes down with you. I'll dry it for you. There's a bathroom there inside my bedroom too if you want to use it. Extra toothbrush under the sink."

"Bossy aren't we?" He gave her a loopside smile but still obeyed her instruction.

She rolled her eyes and replied, "it's called being practical."

The upstairs space is smaller than downstairs and yet it looked cozy and spacious. He walked into a small living roomー decorated with grey carpet, a comfy looking white sofa bed, a glass gold-framed coffee table, a red single armchair, two side glass gold-framed small side tableー and another red door which he assumed the bedroom. He walked in and smiled at another mountains of books on the floor. The bedroom has no shelf. Just a small cupboard beside the door to the bathroom. The king sized bed was placed right beside the big tall windows that fitted the whole wall. There was a large full body mirror beside the bedroom door, right across the bed. More cactuses and succulents plants on the floor on both side of the mirror. He heard the sound of coffee grinding from downstairs and hurriedly made his way to the bathroom. After a quick hot shower, he went down with his wet clothes. She looked up from the record player and played some jazz record when she heard the stairs creaked.

"Oh, good! It fits you perfectly! I knew you'd fit Bill's." She smiled and took the wet clothes from him. "I brewed you long black if you don't mind. I don't know how you take your coffee. If you like something else let me know. It's on the house!" She yelled from the laundry room.

"No, long black is fine! So what is this place?" He sat facing the bar and sighed contentedly drinking his coffee. "This is perfect."

"My late grandfather's old cottage. I just moved back here from France a year and a half ago and honestly? I was bored. So I told my parents I wanted to have my own place. My dad told me about this cottage. Apparently my late grandfather left it for me so I took it!" She was brewing another coffee for herself.

"And you decided to run a cafe?"

"It was for a selfish reason, really. I was walking around the park and I couldn't find a perfect cafe or a restaurant or a quiet bar to read while indulge myself some good coffee! Thus, two months after I moved in, I decided to turn this small cottage into a cafe. A simple small cafe, just how I wanted it to be. I took this nine month barista and management course, very meticulous process, mind you, but, ta-da! Here you are, in my very own cafe." She waved her hands enthusiastically. Then she leaned forward with her elbows on the bar, holding a cup of black coffee with both her hands and grinned at him. "So what do you think of it? You like it?"

He looked at her hopeful eyes and tapped his finger on his chin as if he was contemplating his answer. "Hmm. Well you gonna see me a lot often that's for sure."

She grinned wider and brilliantly at him, nodding her head vigorously. "Wonderful! Since you are my very first customer, I'll give nineteen percents off for your every visit!"

"Nineteen? And they said genorosity is dead?" He smirked from his cup.

They talked like that for a while longer than they expected. She leaned on the bar towards him, he leaned on his table towards her. They didn't even notice the rain has stopped an hour ago.

"Shit! It's four o'clock?! I'm late! I promised my godson a dinner at 8:30 p.m!" He jumped up and ran to the door and left without looking back.

She laughed at her first customer's antics when the door opened again, abruptly.

"Thank you for the best coffee I ever had in my whole life. I'll come again. Promise!" He said from the door. She grinned and nodded her head.

"The pleasure is all mine, mister!"

He left with a smile plastered on his face.


	2. Breakfast

Disclaimer: still no copyright sigh

A/N: oh my first ever review! Hello, Guest c1! To answer your question: it's only 4 chapters long so not gonna tell you when they'll learn each other's name. And about her being friends with Fleur or not, that would only be answered in my next fanfic, it would be a two-shots fic to explain their backstories. Thank you! I really appreciate your review! You made my day!

 **Chapter 2: Breakfast**

It has been two weeks since their first meeting.

He visited the cafe five times since then. Thursday, Saturday, Sunday, Tuesday, and Saturday. Every visits at the same time, 3:00 at the evening and he always stayed until 10:00-11:00 at night. Today was different. It was Wednesday and it was a beautiful morning, contrary to the dreadful weather the first time he came. Now that he wasn't in a hurry, he took a top to bottom lookover of the cottage. It was actually quite quaint. Surrounded by wildflowers and there was a big window above the door, he didn't notice it before. "Well, it is a two-storey cottage." He mumbled. He stood on the porch, holding the door knob.

 _Fuck should have asked for the business hour. Is it open? Am I too early? It's 8:30 isn't cafes usually open at 9:00 or 10:00 in the morning? Should I knock? Oh I should knock._

So he knocked. He counted to nineteenー he had no idea why she likes nineteen so much. Nineteen menus, nineteen plants around the big glass window, nineteen percent off, and now he too had this habit of counting to nineteen instead of tenー and yet there was still no sign of its opening. He was about to leave when he heard a sound of shattered glass. He opened the door at once and called out. "Hello?"

"Yes?" Her head popped up from the bar. He laughed when he saw how small her head was popping out like that.

"Kitten, you look like that arcade game! The one with holes and cats or roddents or whatever the creature was; and they popped out of the holes and you need to hit it? Yeah you look like that one."

She huffed her stray curl that found their way to her face. "It's not funny!" Her head was gone now and he laughed again. Then she popped her head back with her narrowed eyes and he doubled in laughter at that.

"Ha ha ha. Very mature! If you're so carefree to laugh like that, why don't you come and help me clean this mess?"

"But I'm your customer!" He whined but still walked to the bar and found her kneeling in front of blue and yellow shattered glasses.

"You're bleeding!" His eyes widened. From the look of it, it was two mugs and she was obviously too smart to sort these shattered pieces out with her hand. "I saw that eyes rolling, mister!" He took her hand and motioned her to move so he could clean the mess "properly this time." Now it was her turn to rolled her eyes as she sat on the counter with her long slender fair legsー he tried to not notice how short her shorts wasー dangling right beside where he knelt.

"And you're barefoot? Kitten, you are just too smart for this."

"I'm always barefoot! I hate socks. My toes feel trapped. How should I know those mugs decided to break today of all day?" She defended herself weakly. He got up and asked where she put the broom. She jerked her head to the kitchen.

"Back there beside the dryer. Outside the kitchen!"

The kitchen was small with yellow painted wall and checkered tiles. He saw her uneaten toasts on the counter. He came back with a broom and her plate of toasts on his other hand. "Eat." He commanded. She took a toast to her mouth with her unhurt hand and hummed happily.

"I just want to brew my black coffee."

"You can brew four cups of coffee if you want _after_ I'm done cleaning _your_ mess." He swept the last piece of glass and took off one shoe to check if there was any more glass that he missed with his now bare foot.

"All clear, kitten. Now brew me my nineteen percent off coffee!" He walked back to the kitchen to put away the broom and the glasses.

"But my haaanndddd." She pouted at him. He took her hand worriedly and then pushed it back with mock annoyance.

"It's just a small cut on your pinky!"

"But it hurts." She was still pouting but this time with a mischief glint in her eyes. He smiled and shook his head before he took her finger to his lips and kissed it.

"Better?"

"Better! Now how do you take your coffee today?" She hugged him briefly as a thank you and jumped off the counter.

He sat on one of the stool at the bar and read the menu written with chalk on the small blackboard above the wine shelf. "Flat white, please. Double shot!" He put two fingers up.

She nodded and started grinding the coffee bean. "Go put on any record if you want. Sorry it's pretty messy here. There's boxes of stocks came late yesterday. Charlie sent them last night, thank gods for Charlie!"

He walked towards the records and peeked into the boxes on his way. "More books?"

"More books more to read!" She sang.

"Coffee beans? Is it already finishing? You only started your business two weeks ago." He picked a random french vinyl and played it. "So you ordered these stuff from Charlie?"

She put his flat white coffee, with two piece of toasted bread already coated with butter and strawberry jam just how he likes them. "Business is blooming! I never thought it goes this well. I'm thinking of adding cakes on the menu, but my baking skill is.. average."

He snorted.

"I heard that, mister! And to answer your second question, no. Charlie works as a zoologist in Romania and coincidentally I ordered my beans from one of the company there. I actually discovered my love for coffee from my visit to Romania, I think it was around 2001? Charlie introduced this one hell of a Romanian coffee's recipe, Marghilomana coffee. It was so good." She made her way to her yellow painted kitchen.

He took his seat to enjoy his breakfast. She came out from the kitchen with two plates of srambled eggs. "Extra salt, extra pepper, and extra creamy."

"You know me best, kitten. Not only you make the best coffee, you also make me the best breakfast I ever had in my life!"

"You're welcome. Now eat!" She sat on the stool on his right. Both of them ate in a comfortable silence. Once they finished, he offered her to help with the stocks. "You're too small to carry all those."

"Hey! I'll let you know I won this literally deadly tournament back in highschool against three healthy fully grown boys! I have enough muscle, thank you very much." She started to stack one box on top of another just to be taken by him.

"I know you're strong, kitten. Just let me show you my chivalrous side, alright? Where do you want these?"

She carried one box with her and led him to the bar. "Arrange them nicely under the bar."

It took them almost an hour to finish putting the stocks away. He now sat on one of the closest table to the book shelf, where she now arranging the books, alphabetically. "They're just gonna pick random books to read then put it back wherever again. What's the point of arranging it alphabetically?"

"So they could find whatever it is they want to read with ease. I don't mind arranging it again and again. It calms me anyway."

"To arrange stuff?" He leaned back on his seat, both his hands locked behind his neck. His eyes still on her. _Nope. I'm not checking her fair thigh at all. Nope._

His eyes trailed her legs and he wondered in amazement at how long and slender and perfect her legs were. He trailed his eyes up and saw a glimpse of her bare back as she bowed down to reach the lower racks, continuing his trailing adventure to her chest, braless if that pointy nipples were telling enough, now trailing up to her long neck, up to her delicious looking, kissable pink pouty lips, her button nose and her doe-shaped eyes that were staring at him.. back? Whaー

 _Shit!_

He sat up straighter and his face flushed red now that she caught him checking her out like a deer caught in the headlights. He tried to cover his embarrasment by drinking his new cup of long black coffee, religiously avoiding her gaze. She tilted her head to the side and smirked at him.

"Like what you see?" He chocked on his coffee and she laughed at him. He hurriedly pulled himself together.

"You have a huge collection of books, kitten." He winked at her. She snorted and muttered something that sounded like "yeah right" and "men".

It was 11:24 a.m. when he decided to leave. He asked what was the business hour. She laughed it off and said, "I opened and closed at whatever time I want." He asked again if he can come early again for breakfast. She replied with a brilliant smile. "Come whenever, even at any ungodly hour you want. My door will always open for you."

What he didn't know was that her door literally will always open for him, magically.


	3. Mocktail

Disclaimer: No copyright.. yet.

A/N: I have two wip fanfic and I'm not sure to publish before I actually finished them or just publish and work on them then. How long of a hiatus is too long of a hiatus? I'm still new at posting fics so really I'm anxious and just a whole lot of panic! Kinda excited to post and get people anticipating for new chapters but worried if it takes too long and people gives up on it so really I need to know!

Oh thank you, my lovely guest 1! That means a lot for someone whom english wasn't their first language! Thank you! x

As always, do correct me if there's any errors! I'll fix 'em right away!

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Mocktail**

It has been three months since their first meeting.

Since then, he has slept over at her place for fifteen times. The first time was because of the weather, ironically just like their first meeting.

 _It was his twenty-seventh visit. They had dinner together and talked over coffees, Bobby Womack's soulful voice filled the tranquil atmosphere when suddenly there was a blinding lightning, followed by the first peals of thunder rolled across the sky. They both startled on their seats and looked out through the glass. "It's raining heavily." She gasped and mumbled to no one and quickly ran upstairs to get her cat, Crookshanks, from her bedroom. "He's scared of thunders, my poor baby, so we always cuddle together under this weather." She explained._

 _He looked at the flat-faced cat. He didn't get it why her friends didn't like Crookshanks. That big orange furball really was a cute cat and he really likes him. He bent down and ran his hand along Crookshanks' back, rubbing it softly. The cat purred and he felt proud of himself. He looked at her smugly only to get slapped on his cheek softly. "I can make him purr like that too, okay?"_

 _He supported his head by the chin with his free palm, elbow on the table, and cocked his eyebrow in a challenging manner. "Really? I never seen Crookies purred like that with you."_

 _"I would prove it to you now but Crookshanks apparently sound asleep."_

 _He looked at the said cat and ran his hand on him one last time before he got up to leave. "I should get home, kitten. It's late."_

 _She stood up gingerly not wanting to wake Crookshanks up who still bundled in her arms, and walked him to the red front door. When he opened it the lightning striked again. "Are you sure you want to go home now? You can stay over, you know. There's a bed sofa in the living room upstairs."_

 _He looked at the small woman beside him and looked back at the raging storm. He closed the door back and gave her an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, kitten. Didn't plan to crash in but yeah if you don't mind, can I stay for the night?"_

 _"She grinned and led him upstairs. "Thought you never ask, mister."_

 _She took out three extra pillows and a black velvety blanket out from one of her many cupboard's drawer. She pulled out another drawer and took out a set of pyjamas and a boxer for him. "You know where the extra toothbrush and extra towel at."_

 _He took a hot shower, brushed his teeth, put on the navy blue satin pyjamas and got out of the bathroom to see her already laid on her bed, curled up with her cat._

 _"Should I be worried of your ever so many male clothes supply?" He sat beside her, running his hand through her curly brunette hair. She chuckled and with her back still facing him she answered, "I have two male bestfriends, brothers in every way except blood. One of them comes from a big family. And by default, his brothers are my brothers too. We visited each other ocasionally. I'm surprised your visits never clash with theirs." She turned her body now and raised her head to meet his eyes._

 _"You can start leaving your clothes too, if you'd like to, of course. So next time if you want to stay over again or should situation like this happen again, you can at least wear your_ own _boxer." She teased._

 _He flicked her nose. "Cheeky bird."_

 _They stayed quietly like that for a while more, the sound of rains hitting on the big window right beside her bed, and of thunders exploded roll after roll, echoed the now quiet eccentric cottage that he learnt to love, until she fell asleep with one of her hand wrapped around his waist. He unwrapped her hand slowly and knelt beside the bed, stroking his knuckle softly on her cheek. "Goodnight, kitten."_

 _He kissed her nose and went to sleep in the living room._

He now has his own drawer, filled with his shirts, pyjamas, boxers, socks, and a pair of jeans. He even left a pair of his black Tricker's burford derby boots. "Just in case." He said when she asked him why. And tonight the "just in case" moment has arrived.

She was cleaning the cafe after hour accompanied by Sylvie Vartan's songs when he came in and locked the door thereon. She turned and screamed, the broom thrown out of her hold with a loud thunk sound as it hit the floor when she saw him there stood stark naked with both his hands covering his private part. She looked at him with a really weird face as her confusion and amusement and her now crimson flushed face,ーwhich he found very alluring that he let out a throaty groan subconciouslyー morphed together.

"Kitten." He drawled his word as if he was trying to get an illiterate kid to understand what he was saying. "Can I stay for the night?"

She was still in shocked to say anything so she settled for a nod. He ran upstairs in just a blink, with speed like greased lighting. The awkward silence only enveloped by the blonde French singer's voice as she still stared at the now empty spot where her visitor stood before. After she got a hold of herself back, she shook her head and gave out a hearty guffaw at his state of affair until the image of his naked bodyー 'cept some certain part of his anatomy that she kind of wish freed off his handsー brought back to the front of her mind.

"Oh Merlin! He's fit!" She blushed furiously, one hand laid horizontally flat on her forehead, the other hand laid on her chest, trying to calm her fast-beating heart. She exhaled a very long and heavy breath when her heart finally found its normal beat back.

She continued her cleaning, grinning in anticipation the whole time. She couldn't wait to hear his story.

He came down half an hour later, dressed in his red Sex Pistol ragged shirt and a pair of white blue-striped pyjama pants with her small pink towel flung on his shoulder for him to dry his still wet hair. "Sorry, kitten. I couldn't find extra small towel so I used yours."

She shrugged it off since it wasn't the first time they shared their personal belonging. Just two weeks ago, he came for breakfast early in the morning, before the business hour, to find her brewing in an orange male boxer with an R on its rear.

 _"Kitten, whose boxer are you wearing?" He was standing right across her, only separated by the bar, his eyes fixed on the very offensive disguisting blue-coloured of an R that seemed too happy hugging his kitten's round arse._

 _She jumped at his voice, startled. With her back still facing him, she acknowledged his intrusion by peering at him over her shoulder. "Don't scared me like that! Oh, and good morning to you too." Her tongue tucked out like a little girl who get annoyed at the boy that kept tugging her ponytails in class, but he saw none of it as his eyes were fixated on her bum. Her eyebrows rose questioningly at his fascination of her back._

 _"O_ ー _kay. I'm flattered that you found my rear.. captivating, as I'd like to believe. But please, for the love of gods, pray tell me why so?"_

 _She turned her head back to its place, carrying on her previous project: attempting on more complicated latte art; a bird with its wings flapped, one that looked like a phoenix. She was so into it,_ ー _her left hand was holding up a cup of coffee whereas her right hand held a pitcher filled with foamed hot milk, elbow raised to a funny angle_ ー _that she didn't notice when he moved from across her to right behind her, his arms stretched out to both of her side, hands palmed on the counter top, caging her in her own personal space. His voice was hard yet sounded so fragile when he asked again,_

 _"Whose boxer are you wearing, kitten?"_

 _It came out muffled as his mouth planted on top of her bushy-haired head. She stopped her endearvour and rested her back on his chest. "One of my bestfriend's. I told you about them, remember?"_

 _"Why?" This time his voice came out clearer and she tucked her head deeper to the nook of his neck that had her sense reached its optimum capacity as his manly musky after-shaved cream's ーhe left one hereー smell braced her. His chin now perfectly sat on her head. She just knew her curls would magically found their way out of her buns and lo, she proved to be right. She could feel him scrunching his nose to disregard the hairs that now resided in his nostrils._

 _"Habit." She coiled a lock of her strayed curls around her finger and tucked it in her bun just to failed misereably. She huffed in annoyance._

 _"Most of the times I wear their boxers just because I found them first before I found my shorts." She caught him exhaled heavily, waiting for his reply. Still, she met by silence and she didn't like it at all._

 _"Mister, are you okay?"_

 _He rested his forehead on her bare left shoulder, letting out a small growl now that he realized what she was wearing. A plain white spaghetti-strap satin tank top matched with her bestfriend's stupid boxer. He inhaled and exhaled in effort to calm himself. That did calm him but unfortunately it gave the opposite effect on her. She shivered once she felt his breath touched her bare back and hastily disguised it as a cough. She was about to ask him again before he beat her to the punch._

 _"I don't want you to wear other guys' boxer."_

 _Her counter arguement was ready at the tip of her tongue but once again, he beat her to it._

 _"I know they are practically your brothers but please, kitten. If you want to wear one, wear mine. I'll leave more boxers. Fuck, I'll even buy you a new one as long as you don't wear theirs. Please."_

 _Her heart palpitated which she was so sure he noticed, thanks to their closeness. She was going to argue, going to make him understand that it was normal for her to wear her brothers' clothes, it was all platonic for them. She was going to said it all but his pleading, vulnerable voice somehow dissolved all of her fighting spirit and she ended up turning her head to her left, facing his right ear and simply replied,_

 _"Okay."_

 _He lifted his head and turned to face her, his cheek rested on her shoulder._

 _"Okay?"_

 _"Okay."_

 _She was rewarded with a dazzling smile, an ear to ear smile, a toothy smile,_ his _smile. He leaned closer to her and kissed her jaw before he muttered a thank you._

Since then, she's been wearing his boxers or his shirts or sometimes both of them at once and on those rare ocassion, he would look utterly pleased, nodding his head with approval, and became extra cuddly, which she found extremely endearing that she couldn't help but wear his clothes again and again and again.

Now that she thought of it back, was he being possessive? Is it normal for a friend to be that possessive? She never liked it whenever someone told her what to do. She never liked it when someone treated her like she was their possession. So why? Why is it when he asked him to not wear her brothers' clothes, she did as he said? Why is it when he gave her that delightful smile whenever she wore his, she felt all funny in the pit of her stomach, all fluttered, as though there were millions of butterflies flying in insane zig-zags in it? Why is it she wanted to give him that satisfaction, to let herself be rewarded with his elated mood? Her heart started that crazy rapid beating again. But this time, she wasn't sure why.

She stood still, following his every movement,ーhe made his way to the records and picked out a vinyl, its cover colour was black with a triangle at the centre of it and some colourful stripes on itー and she could barely hear the music as she was busy staring at the small smile that slowly sculpted on his face, his very handsome face.

 _Wait, what? Did I just say handsome?_ Her eyes widened.

 _Merde_.

"ー'forward,'he cried! from the rear, and the front, rank died!"

She slowly tuned herself in back to reality. Only then she could hear him sang along with the song of his choice.

"Pink Floyd? Great taste, mister." She spun her body and strode to the bar.

"Come on, kitten! Sing with me! Be the Wright to my Gilmour!" He swayed with his right hand fisted as his mic whilst her pink towel still flung on his shoulder. She shook her head instead and asked him if he wanted anything to drink as she took her place behind the bar.

"Wine, please."

"You know I don't serve alcoholic beverage right?" He gasped incredulously.

" Theー then, what are those?! Vinegars?! Olive oils?!" He now sat on his stool at the bar.

She rolled her eyes at his dramatic reply. "Non-alcoholic wines. I serve coffees, teas, chocolate drinks, juices, and mocktails. You want to try mocktails?"

He grimaced at the very idea of non-alcoholic drinks, non. _Non!_ But, he couldn't help being all curious too. He leaned forward, his hands still drying his long ebony hair with her pink towel.

"Non-alcoholic wines? Interesting. Alright, kitten. Serve me your best mocktail!" He yelled enthusiastically.

She began gathering all items needed; two boxes of different flavoured juices out of the small see-through fridge under the bar, highball glasses from the long single shelf between the counter and the counter top and put it into the small white freezer, small knife from one of the drawer, and was that orange and cherry? His eyes bugged out when she took out this weird looking bottle. He couldn't help it, his curiosity piqued, so he asked and with grace she answered all his questions cordially with obvious amusement and humour laced in all her answers, as if she was answering some ebulliant child.

"Orange juice or pineapple juice?" She held up one juice in each hand. Her question jolted him out of his astonishment.

"Whaー?" She raised an eyebrow and shook both juices.

"Orange juice or pineapple juice?" She repeated.

"Pineapple."

"Pineapple it is."

When she began to fill ice into the weird looking bottle,ー which he's been told was a cocktail shakerー and poured a good amount of pineapple juice and peach nectar, he was confident that that was it. Poured everything in, stirred, and voila! Mocktail! But he knew he was wrong the moment he saw her secured a lid on the shaker. She then held the shaker with both hands on each of its end and startlingly shook it with vigour over her shoulder. She shook it rythmatically, he noticed, following every beat of Pink Floyd's Money; and only stopped once the outside of the shaker frost up. She gave him a toothy grin full with excitement.

"On the rocks?" She asked as she let go one of her hand to grab one of the now cold highball glass out of the freezer.

"Yeah, sure." He absent-mindedly answered her, his face shone with delight.

She strained the mixture into the chilled highball glass and finished the process by garnishing the glass with orange slice and cherry. She placed the mocktail on a gold round coaster with runics written on it in red, in front of him.

"Finishing touch." She sang as she put a small yellow paper umbrella in his mocktail.

"Enjoy your very first mocktail, mister!" Still with her toothy grin.

"Alright! It's now or never!" He took a slow sip of his first mocktail. "So, what exactly is mocktail?"

"A non-alcoholic version of cocktail."

He spurted his drink. "Cocktail? Cock and tail? That's a funny name. Are you flirting with me, kitten?" He winked.

"No." She rolled her eyes at his over-reaction gasp. "I'm making a different mocktail for myself now so you can try two types of mocktails tonight." She informed him as her hands now shaking the cocktail's shaker like the way she did before.

"Go on, try yours first. Its called Cuddle in the Beach. A non-alcoholic version of Sex in the Beach."

He chocked on his drink again when he heard the latter name. "How horny were them when they named this drink?"

She laughed and strained her mix into her glass and at the same time she watched him as he took another sip of his, waiting for his verdict. "Not bad, kitten. Might switch my favourite now."

She pouted and said, "Am I no longer your favourite?"

He smiled at her genuinely as he cupped her cheek with his free hand. "You're always my favourite."

She smiled and pushed her mocktail towards him. "Try this one. Its called Shirley Temple."

"Honestly what's with the names."

She continued telling him of other mocktails. Her hands moved animatedly as she explained the process, where she learnt it, why she preferred serving mocktails over cocktails, "I don't want drunkards near my books!" She then introduced him to mojito,

"mojito?" He asked.

"Yes. It's a Cuban drink. A mix of white rum, sugar, lime juice, soda water, and mint. It's spelled as M-O-J-I-T-O. But, pronounced as Moh-hee-toe."

He had no idea of the existence of cocktails and mocktails and moh-hee-toe, which should be an obvious telling that he wasn't part of the normal society; but she was too engross in her overly but well elaborated explanations to notice it. And him being all intrigued only flared her excitement more. He told her to teach him so he could show his skill off to his godson, and his thirst for learning had her beamed at him as bright as an afternoon sun and she hugged him excitedly saying, "of course, of course, of course!" After the topic of mocktails cooled down, he cleared his throat to start his story.

"Kitten, don't you want to know why I was naked?" He asked from his glass.

She laughed and put down her Shirley Temple and turned to face him. "Of course I want to know. I'd be crazy to not want to know what could be one of your best adventure, yet!"

He chuckled and he too put his drink down back on his given coaster to face her. "You see, I told you I have a godson right?"

"Yeah?"

He rubbed his neck awkwardly and closed his eyes as he spoke, "Well, he kind of make it his personal mission to get me settled down."

"I never asked you before, but how old are you actually?"

"I'm old, kitten. I'm 38."

She rolled her eyes. "Old? 38? Rubbish. From where I came from 38 is equal to 24. You _look_ 24! Why the rush?"

"It just that, I was what people called manwhore when I was young. I slid from one partner to another quicker than I slid off my clothes. Men, women, I literally shagged everyone back in high school, except for my best mates and their partners or crushes tho'. That's fucked up." He smiled fondly at the mention of his friends. "But I've changed. I didn't sleep with any woman nor man ever since I got my godson back. I told you I only got him back when he was around thirteen to fourteen years old, right?"

She simply nodded.

"Ever since I found him, I tried my hardest to be the best father figure for him; to make it up for him, for all those lost years I wasn't there for him. Even before I found my godson back I didn't had a shag for about thirteen years. And until now, I haven't break my record yet so in total, I've been wearing my chastity belt, figuratively of course, for almostー" he paused and counted his fingers, "ーtwo decades? Wow. That's a long time."

"Really?" She hid her surprised face behind her mocktail's glass rim.

"Yeah. Twenty-four years to be exact. That's.. something. No wonder my godson's been shoving any single human he knows at me." He muttered under his breath but she heard him all well.

"And tonight?" She steered their conversation back.

He blushed and just like two weeks ago, she found it sickenly, completely, absurdly, endearing. His raven hair strayed to his blushing face, as if it was teasing her mad traitorous heart, which was beating like a jungle-drum now. Automatically, she tucked a lock of his hair behind his ear as she always did before, she had no idea what was happening to her, she felt like that usually very normal gesture for them seemed too intimate now for an action between friends.

 _Medre_.

But he continued his story telling, thankfully, without noticing her confused face.

"It was my godson's wife's idea. She thought I needed the push, you know. So she kind of forcedー no. No, she didn't force her. She was willing to do it. One of her _willing_ friend accepted her offer and she _willingly_ jumped me while I was sleeping. I was pretty knackred today when I got home, I didn't even had the energy to eat. I just went straight to bed and passed out without a care of the world." And as if on cue, his stomach rumbled. He laid his palm on his stomach and sheepishly mumbled, "I'm sorry."

She laughed it off and pulled him up. "Let's continue this exciting story over dinner, shall we?" He grinned gratefully at her and followed her lead.

"Spaghetti's alright?"

"Sounds lovely, kitten."

She took out the ingredients and prompted him to continue his story while she cooks.

"So as I was saying, I was knackered. Literally passed out. I didn't even notice when she got on my bed and took off my clothes. I had no idea how she did it but I didn't even break a sleep when she did! Stealth, that she was. The only thing I remember was I felt so good down there and I thought I was just having a wet dream so I just enjoyed the feeling. But her moans got louder and it sounded so real. I started to panic. I forced myself to wake up and there she was straddling me to oblivion and fuck, I'm not even gonna lie it felt so fucking good I almost fell in to the temptation and when she bit my chest, which I love if it was a normal consentual shag, but it wasn't! So her biting didn't feel good at all. She bit me too hard!"

At this he pulled up his shirt and forced her to look.

"Kitten! Look!" He pointed at the bite mark on his chest and took her hand to touched it. She pinched it instead and he yelped.

"I meanー" Still rubbing on the spot where she pinched him and glare at her for better measure. "ーI love biting and all those kinky shit but to be bitten unwillingly while you're unconciuous, by someone you don't know, it was fucked up. It was really terrible. I felt bad for her. I felt bad for myself. Shit, I even felt bad for my godson's wife for ruining her "surprise"! So I pushed her away and apparaー appeared on your door."

She looked at him funnily. "So you're saying you ran here naked?"

He covered his face with both his hands now and just nodded twice as an idication. She saw how red his ears were and kissed him on top of his head telling him he could stay here for as long as he wanted before she continued with her cooking. He pulled down his hands a bit lower, just enough for his eyes, and studied her.

She was wearing his black long-sleeve shirt, rolled up on both hands. It looked baggy on her petite figure that he couldn't even tell if she wore any pants under it or not. Luck was on his side as his query now answered when she tip-toed to get some kind of green herb from the top cupboard, thus, hoisted his black shirt up, showing his green satin boxer fitted nicely on her. He grinned proudly, content to see his kitten in his clothes instead of one of her sodding brothers'.

 _Hold the fuck up. My kitten?_

He stared at her, cooking while ranting at the same time about one of her funny customer today.

"ーhe ordered Virgin Mary, one of the mocktail, and acted drunk! It was really hard for me to hold my serious face when I told him "Mocktails is a non-alcoholic version of cocktails, dear. You might confused them both." Right infront of his friends and I swear his face was redder than his drinkー"

She was still talking but all he could think of was how perfect she was at that moment.

 _Fuck._


	4. Lunch

**Chaper 4: Lunch**

It has been seven months and eleven days since they first met.

It was his fortieth visits. He couldn't wait to share his good news with her. His excitement shown as clear as crystal on his face, singing Carl Douglas's Kung Fu Fighting with his surprisingly excellent imitation of Willy Wonka's heels click, ーminus the caneー without a care of his surroundings. His godson was going to be a father and he felt everything was finally okay, like everything was finally settled into one big great picture. Greater than those renaissance paintings, those that displayed in museum. His happiness grew more as he reached the only one small cottage in the big city.

He took a seat on one of the unused extra stool at the corner as he looked around at the full house cafe; it seemed like everyone in the town were too lazy to make breakfast that morning from the look of it. He inhaled contentedly and puffed his chest out, proud of her accomplishment. As he stretched out his long legs, clothed with dark grey slim-fit jeans and a pair of dark brown buckle ankle boots on his feet, he heard a loud shriek from one of the table near the big window.

"No! You promised a red wedding! I don't want to wear white! It makes me look fat!" The young woman yelled at her now red-faced fiancée. He snickered at the scene as it reminded him of their own fight right at that very table a month ago.

 _"What do you mean, you don't know? This is your house!" He ran his fingers along his hair, frustrated at her incompetence. His freshly brewed coffee forgotten._

 _"Yes. It is my house but it wasn't my fault if you couldn't find whatever it is you're looking for!_ You _were the one who hide it yourself,_ you _were the one who was too excited to surprise me, and_ you _were the one who saw it last!"_

 _On a better day when they weren't fighting or screaming on each other's throat, he would find her angry face ーdilated pupils, messy curls rolled off here and there, framing her heart-shaped face, extra pouty quivering pink lips, and he swore he saw her hair crackled in redー sexy as hell. But as now were obviously not the said better day, he found her angry face annoyingly still sexy as hell and it confused him to no end he cursed himself._

 _"Kitten, you know all the nooks and crooks of this old dying cottage! So why couldn't you find it?"_

 _He knew the moment she gave him the deadliest venomous look she could have mustered was the exact moment that he was unambiguously ーhow to put this eloquentlyーfucked. She slammed both of her hands on the small round table hard enough that his black coffee splashed out of his favourite gold-coloured cup._

 _"Old dying cottage? You said old dying cottage?" she shrilled. "Dégage, branleur! Ve ta faire enculer!"_

 _She threw the closest thing to her, ーan empty uncleaned black mug from the previous customer that was on the next table of theirsー right to his face which he survived from thanks to his quick instinct to duck. His French was rusty but he'd dare to put a wager on all his family's wealth that she was cursing him to next year and him being all irate and whiny, foolishly opened his stupid mouth._

 _"Oui! Whatever it is you said, oui! This is a very ancient cottage and it smells musty! Like an old farts' love shack! Like dead rats!"_

 _"Fine! If it smells so bad, why don't you leave then?!" She said with her arms crossed on her torso, her curls went wayward they gave him an illusion of an electrified tentacles, completed with the vehement enraged look in her big brown eyes, it was as if Medusa was looking at him straight into his grey eyes and he couldn't move from his spot,ーfrozenー enchanted by the maddening beauty of his wrathful kitten._

 _"Well?! What are you waiting for?! Go on then!" She bent down to pick the next nearest thing which was_ _his pair of Tricker's burford derby boots_ _and threw it to him. He caught one boot easily with one hand but got hit accurately on his aristocrat nose with the other one._

 _"Leave!" He didn't need to be told twice. He gave her one last furious look and walked out of his now least-favourite cafe into the dark cold midnight, his Tricker's boots tucked firmly between his right arm and his armpit. He huffed out an angry breath. Muttering to himself about the old cottage._

 _That woman! I was just stating the truth! It is ancient! Rusty old stuff! Creaking here and there, everywhere smells like Crookshanks' piss, cracks on the bedroom's ceiling, shakes under heavy rains, wildflowers annoyingly blooms literally everywhere, filled with antiques, with classic tea sets, that ol' quiet, private, quaint, space of kitten!"_

 _He stopped walking and groaned in his hands that were rubbing his face with great force in shame, her angry face came to his mind._

 _"What have I done?"_

 _He traced his steps back. He knew it wasn't her fault. He was the one who decided to hide it from her. Wanted to make it a surprise finding for her; like a treasure hunt. And him being a dull-witted brainless old man he was, lashed it out on her when it was he himself alone were to blame. His heart beat rate increased as he saw the red front door. He was steeling himself, getting prepared to ask for her forgiveness when a man's voice could be heard from inside. He stopped and crouched down to hide himself behind one out of the two small round table that sat on the porch. Why did he hide? He had not a slightest idea why. It was midnight, or 12:16 after midnight if he wanted to be specific. So which imbecile did the voice belong to? Barging into someone's house at this ungodly hour! People sleeps, for fucks sake! He hide deeper where the light couldn't shone which got him to end up hiding under the table as the red door opened abruptly, followed by the stranger's roaring laughter. He couldn't see their face but from his line of view he knew this imbecile was an ugly git without any fashion sense. He shook his head in disagreement at his magenta robe that didn't match his bright orange sneakers._

 _"Don't you dare to leave yet, George! Not until you give it back! This is not funny! You can't just take anything that you like without asking me!"_

 _The imbecile, now identified as a moving thing called 'George', snickered at his kitten and he could just picture her scowling face._

 _"How should I know not to take that one out. Usually you'd just let me grab any of your stuff and leave. You know how intrigued I am with all these things that you own, including that one itty bitty green satin shorts, or more known as 'some-bloke's-boxer-who-I-let-in-to-my-small-hidden-sanctuary' in your drawer." She gasped and covered her mouth with both of her hands. "Tell me, luv. Are you hiding a man in there? Is that why you've been avoiding our Honourary Sundays' lunch?"_

 _He could feel his mouth slowly curled upwards and morphed into the smile of one Cheshire Cat from a book that his little cousin forced him to read her ages ago; Alicia? Alice? In Wonderwand? Or something like that, he wasn't sure._

 _Good! The git 'George' found his boxer and kitten even stood him up on their dates! Ha!_

 _Her voice stopped his train of thought. "I'm 28, George. I can see anyone I want, whenever I want, wherever I want! And you know I wasn't avoiding you."_

 _He heard a rustling sound of clothes, suggesting they had moved closer into a hug. "I know, I know. But it's been two years, luv. Don't you miss my inane table manner?"_

 _She laughed. "Oh, George! I do miss you, so terribly. I promise I'll think about it, okay? Now, can you please give me back the mysterious red box you've found? I believe that was what he was looking for earlier."_

 _"I knew it's not yours. You won't spend your money on something as eye-catching as that!" George gave her a knowing wink._

 _"Oh dear. What is it? Is it expensive? That man! Where is it, George?"_

 _"I put it back to where I found it. That's why I snuck here after midnight. Was hoping you'd be asleep so I can put it back without a trace. Come on, let me show you."_

 _Once the door swung shut, he got up from his hiding place, smoothing dusts off his rider jacket and his tight black leather pants. His Jeffery West Moon chelsea boot's heels creaked the wooden floor as he paced right in front of the glaring red door, tempting him to come inside to his kitten. He could hear their soft voice and laughter and damn that bloke for making her giggled all cutesy like that! And that thought alone made his stomach queasy, he could feel a puke threatened to come out. He didn't like this feeling. He didn't like her giggles if they were cause by other blokes and not himself. His body moved before his mind could brain his actions. He burst the door open to see what was so great with this George, that son of aー_

 _"Where is George?" He asked, his hand still on the opened door's knob as his eyes travelled around looking for any sign of that fucker who made his kitten giggled so much as if it was the last time she could giggle before the world end. Satisfied that he wasn't there, he settled his eyes on her._

 _"You missed him by a mere second. He just left through the back door. You know him?" She raised an eyebrow. Her baby blue night gown billowed as she spun to him sharply._

 _"Wait a second. You hate this place! What are you doing strutting back here like you own this slimy old cottage?!"_

 _"I don't strut! And I don't hate this place! And I am very much sure didn't use the word slimy! I love this place and everything inside it!" He waved his hands in the air, pointedly at her._

 _"Oh, really? Then why did you say all those mean things? You know how much I love this old cottage!" Her narrowed eyes eyed him with disbelief._

 _"I didn't mean any of those, kitten. I was justー just so anxious." Both his hands limped on his sides, he clenched and unclenched his fists as he continued._

 _"I was nervous, alright? I came here all prepared to let you on to the surprise since you hadn't found it even after a week I hid it. Honestly, kitten. I thought you were sharp but you couldn't even find a blazing red box that was not-so-hidden right beside your little fridge there under the counter?"_

 _"I know. George showed me where you hid it just now," she said proudly._

 _He swallowed his nausea back at the mention of that bollock's name and continued his admission as if she didn't give him her unwanted input. He rolled his eyes inwardly as he made his way to the bar, right where she stood._

 _"I was a ball of nervous wreck, but I summoned enough guts to give you your surprised personally, which was never the plan. So I came here, at midnight, when I knew you'd be alone for sure, just to give youー" he reached down and pulled out the medium sized red box and put it on the bar and held her hands, squeezing them. "ーthis. Okay kitten this is my first gift to you so don't mind my sweaty palms because I'm not going to lie kitten I'm freaking shitting myself here so please please please open the damn box now and accept it whether you like it or not." He said it all in one breath. She squeezed his hands back, assuring him and moved to open her gift._

 _"Oh my. Mister! You did not!" She was gaping with her mouth agape, shifting her widened eyes from her gift to him then to her gift then to him again. He gave her a wolfish grin and spun around showing off his black leather studded rider jacket._

 _"We match!" He exclaimed excitedly and took her new black leather studded rider jacket out of the red box, exactly like his, just smaller in size of course, and put it on her. It fitted her perfectly. He hummed with joy, obviously pleased with himself, as he zipped up the bold statement jacket and kissed her forehead with a loud smacking sound. He then twirled her around to Maurice Williams and The Zodiacs' Stay. Both adults were giggling like two kids who just found some big world-shattering secret that no one had any idea about. And he swore he would never let some stupid fuckheads, another 'George', make her giggled like this ever again. These giggles belonged to him alone._

 _His._

Thunderous congratulatory claps for the couple brought him back from his memory. He shouted his congratulations and bought the couple a mocktail each, treating their customers with his best regards.

 _"It's our cafe, mister."_ She said once and he had this funny fluttering feeling in his stomach when she said that to him. He got up from the stool he sat on before and strode to get a seat on his now freed favourite seat at the bar. He called out for her but instead of kitten, it was a guy who came to him, a 'George'. His smile faded at once only to be replaced with an ugly scowl at this 'George'. He felt another weird feeling. It was as if there was something sharp twisting in his stomach, stabbing his innards with fury, and he decided he didn't like this feeling at all. He asked the sodding 'George' coldly.

"Where's kitten?"

Sodding 'George' looked confused at his hostile approach for a second and he looked stupid with his head tilted like that until it clicked. His face now brightened with sudden realization and he grinned widely, too wide for his comfort.

"So, you must be _the_ mister that she told us about, huh?"

He could feel his cheeks warmed up and judging from sodding 'George' annoying gleeful face, he knew his face now was as red as his favourite kitten's homemade strawberry jams. Too-pleased 'George snorted loudly, that bastard. "Sheー" He cleared his dry throat. "ーShe told you about me?"

"Of course! She told all of us! But when we asked her to take you with her to our monthly reunion she just blushed and said, "I want to keep him just for myself as long as I can." Her exact words. Funny how you both never know each other's name. It's really quite romantic."

"Yeah we didn't even try to hide our names. It just that we kind of skipped the exchanging pleasantries part." He rubbed his neck bashfully and smiled fondly remembering how she bossed him around on their first meeting.

Kinda-okay 'George' hummed an 'oh'. "So, do you want to know?"

"I want to know what?"

The other guy wiggled his eyebrow and gave him a mischievous smile. "Your kitten's name."

He paused for a moment and chuckled. "Nah, mate. It's alright. We're good."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself. You better make your move, tho'. Word of advice, woo her as soon as possible. Just last week that big guy, Viktor, flew here from his country just to have a 'dinner' with her, which she was so oblivious about, and took Pad with her to one of the most romantic dinner, according to Pad. Poor bloke. That woman has blokes around her tail without her even trying."

He paled at that. Of course. His kitten was the muse of the man who invented the word 'perfect', if anyone didn't know of the important fact already. She was beautiful, compassionate, witty, smart, funny, everything that men ever wanted. And he had yet to discover what was going on between them. What were all these weird feelings that he had been having whenever she was around? This thrilling sensation to see her, this tingling feels in his stomach when she smiled at him, this queasy feeling whenever she spoke about 'Georges', just, what the fuck? He shook his head and asked this less-annoying 'George' instantly. "When can I see her?"

Tolerable 'George' lifted his left wrist to check the time. "Now is 9:15. She's having lunch with her friends and those lots will force her to stay until dinner too." Getting-there 'George' muttered something sounded like "those weasels" under his breath. "So maybe around... midnight? I'm not sure but she'll be back by tomorrow. She asked me to look after the cafe only for today."

"Thanks, mate. Would love to stay and help you around but I have a lunch date too. See you around then?" He was about to leave when the started-to-get-annoying-again 'George' pulled him back down.

"Not so fast, mister. We've been hearing about you for months. Now let's take a picture together to document our first historical meeting and of course, so I can show you off to our other friends." Needy 'George' leaned his upper body on the bar towards him to reach him as close as he could, their cheeks now squashed together, it was comical.

"Now, shall we?"

They took pictureー picturesー with his phone. "It's nice to finally meet you, mister. It's an honour to be the first one, in our circle, to meet you. Just so you know, you made me 187 pounds richer. Tell you what? Next time we met, I'll buy you a round."

He laughed and started to like this quite-okay 'George'. "Keep it, mate. Kitten gives me a lifetime nineteen percent off. Yeah, about that, what is it with her and nineteen?"

"Oh, you noticed? It's her birthday, mate. September 19. She told us nine is her lucky number."

"September huh?" New information filed under 'Kitten'. This is good. "Don't tell her I found out about her birthday, alright?"

"Planning a surprise, are we?" He smirked knowingly. "I can help you. Like distracting her or something while you prepare your surprise."

"That would be great. Can I have your number then?" He gave helpful 'George' his phone so he could type in his number. Once done he read the number out loud just to be sure again.

"Anthony. Thanks, Anthony. I really appreciate this. And thank you for telling me about her birthday too!"

Anthony waved his hand coolly. "Not a problem, mate. In fact, I owe you. 187 pounds remember?"

He laughed and said his goodbye. He couldn't wait to plan the best surprise for his kitten. He left for his lunch date cheerfully and sang Carl Douglas's Kung Fu Fighting again and of course it wouldn't be complete without his excellent imitation of Willy Wonka's heels click, would it now?

* * *

Her phone rang and she saw the caller was Anthony. She answered. "Hullo, Goldstein. How's the cafe?"

"Ouch, luv. You wounded me. And here I am taking a good care of your cafe and extra gentle care of your mister just to have your uncaring perfect arse blatantly ignoring my welfare?"

She rolled her eyes. She could just imagine Anthony held his fisted hand on his heart, feigning hurt. "How are you, my sweet Goldstein? Thank you for taking care of my cafe and my misterー wait, what?!" She heard Anthony's laugh from the other side of the phone. "Anthony! What do you mean you're taking care of my mister? Is he there?"

"He left an hour ago. A very charming bloke, I must say. You did good, luv. Better than the guy before. We even took pictures together! I'm so going to show this to Pad and T. They owe me 187 pounds! I won the bet!"

"You guys are bonkers. Did you tell him I'll be out until late?"

"Yeah I told him the earliest you'll be home at midnight. Cafe is doing great, by the way. Don't worry. You go and have fun with your brothers and sisters, alright?"

"Alright. Thank you, Anthony. You know I love you."

"And I love you too. Oh, new order's calling! I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Of course! Bye, Anthony."

"Bye, luv!"

She was about to put her phone back when she received a text. Anthony sent her multiple pictures of him and her mister. She smiled fondly at his awkward face, squashed cheek to cheek with Anthony's. She remembered their first time taking polaroid picture together.

 _"Kitten, let me hold it. My hand is longer!"_

 _She stubbornly stretched out her arm. "Mine is long enough, thank you very much!"_

 _He rolled his eyes and let her try first. She held the polaroid camera facing them with her out stretched hand. She snapped and it came out blurry because apparently, their faces were too close to the camera. He cocked his eyebrow, looking all smug at her. He put out his hand to take the camera off her, flicking his wrist urging her to pass him the camera. "Kitten?"_

 _"Urgh. Fine! Only because you have longer hand than my hand! I swear one day I'll invent a stick longer than your hand then we'll see if your long hand will still be one useful hand or not!"_

 _He laughed at her massive usage of the word "hand" in one sentence and pulled her closer to kiss her cheek then snapped._

That was how their first picture together looked like. She with her pouty lips and furrowed eyebrows snuck in his arm and him with his hand softly on top of her head while kissing her cheek with a smile on his lips. Since then they took lots of random pictures. Pictures of them together, of her alone, of him alone, of candids, of Crookshanks, of their cafe, of everything.

"Hello, beautiful. Mum is looking for you."

She turned and hugged the owner of the voice. "Charlie! When did you get here?"

Charlie kissed her forehead and wrapped his arm on her shoulder. "Last night. I just came back from the ministry, inviting everyone on mum's guest list."

"Everyone?"

"Everyone."

She dreaded the new information in. Everyone. Just what she needed after two years of hiding.

"Wow. I better check on your mum then. Lunch in the garden, I assume?"

"You assumed right, luv. Now go and get busy!"

Hermione kissed his cheek before she made her way to the cluttering kitchen and offered Molly her help. Amazing how Molly could manage all these by herself, alone. She sent her silent respect to the matriarch. She peeked on the big funny looking clock ーher brothers' face on itー on the wall to check the time. It was half an hour to noon. "Molly, it's almost lunch time. Shall we start with the table?"

Molly turned her head to face her surrogate daughter. "Of course, dear! You go do that. The guests are coming soon. Bill, Fleur and beautiful Victoire went to pick up Teddy first. They'll be here soon. Percy and Audrey running a bit late with baby James in tow and Molly, two kids to handle! I told Ginevra to send James off to me whenever she had to leave for her games, but she never listen! Poor Audrey!" She kissed the older Molly on both cheeks over her rant.

"I'm so glad that you've finally came home, dear. I'veー" She fished her dainty white handkerchief out of her beige apron's front pocket and patted off her tears. "ーWe've missed you so, so much! The kids told me you found yourself an extraordinary place, forgive Arthur and I for not visiting. We were just too busy with works and grandchildren! But don't you ever forget about us. Remember dear, you'll always have your home here, with us." Molly hugged her fiercely, worried she'd left them again after they finally got her back.

"I won't leave you again. I won't leave any of you again. I promise, Molly." Molly showered her face with sloppy kisses. She laughed at her second mother's antic. "So, do I have something special prepared just for me after all these two years?"

The older woman's eyes twinkled with pride as she dragged her by her lean hand towards the many pots on the stove. "Of course! I have acquired the recipe of your favourite meals, dear. Bouillabaisse, quiche Lorraine, and…" Molly took out a delicious looking juicy large roasting pan from the newly installed oven, filled with potato, capsicum, eggplant, garlic, and the king of all meat itself over them; the majestic lamb. "The main dish for today's lunch is my daughter's favourite French's cuisine: Gigot d'agneau pleureur!"

She was speechless. Molly cooked her all these French's cuisines that she knew Molly had no idea about before. She even pronounced all their names correctly! Her eyes glazed, touched by Molly's maternal treatment towards her, a young woman who had no blood relation with her at all.

"Mollyー" She stuttered and quickly embraced Molly before she saw her tears leaked out of her brown eyes. "ーThis isー you don'tー you don't have to do all these, Molly. Not to me, especially."

Molly shushed her and tightened her embrace, "I love you like my own daughter, dear. You deserved these and more. Everyone would argue if you said otherwise and you know darn well Fred would've agreed with me too, in this rare occasion." She chuckled at the mention of Fred, she could already imagine him winking at her clearly. She let out a grateful sigh.

"Yeah. That stupid boy would have agreed."

Molly let go of her daughter and cupped her heart-shaped face with her calloused old hands. "Now, now, dear. We don't want this saps outside the kitchen. You're finally home. Let's celebrate this happy day merrily, alright? Out you go!"

Molly kissed both her cheeks and practically shoved her out from the kitchen with cutleries stacked in her hands. She was going to walk out straight to the garden but she changed her mind and took a detour towards the living room, where Fred's portrait hung proudly above the fireplace.

His used to be forever dishevelled flaming-red hair, that she took as her personal mission to reprimand since forever, finally sat still on him in the unmoving portrait. His toothy grin was always infectious, never failed to bring out her smile like what it did to her now. His abundant freckles, eleven on his nose-bridge the last time she counted them, brighten his fair skin. His clear blue eyes that screamed mischief whenever she looked at them, but at the same time always mesmerizing. The portrait was perfect. He was perfect. She took a deep breath before she spoke her first word to him after two years.

"Frederick, you foolish boy." She paused, silently hoping for a reply but she only met a disappointing silence.

"My foolish boy." She continued oh so softly, almost like a whisper.

"I'm okay. Business doing great. Tiring but brilliant. Crookshanks still alive and kicking. I swear his face gets flatter each day it's adorable. Don't you worry your ginger head anymore. I'm okay now. I've moved on, Fred. I think I'm seeing someone way older than me; keywords: I think. To be honest, I'm not actually sure what are we, butー"

She replayed the moment she saw his mister sat on one of her café's small round table. He was drenching wet from the storm outside. She couldn't see his face as he was sitting with his back facing her. His wet shoulder-length black hair glued on his slender pale neck and she remembered how she chuckled at his effort to tie them up just to found out he lost his hair tie and cursed his bad luck. That was when she decided to make her existence known. So, she called out for him and he offered his help and that was the first time their eyes met. She smiled tenderly at the memory.

"ーbut, oh, he's an idiot, Fred. He's 38 years old and I'm almost 30! But Fred, he acts like a 16 years old boy who somehow just hit his puberty! He can be awkward, moronic, zealous, mad, brilliant, and he just has this magic that makes me feel like I'm a 16 years old girl myself! Does it make any sense, to you?" She chuckled and sigh slowly.

"Your family would like him. _You_ would like him."

"Fred, know thatー" she cleared her throat. "ーyou'll always have a special spot in my heart no matter what, no matter when. And I love you, Fred. Always am." She transferred all the cutleries on to her left hand before she tip-toed and planted her right palm over his stretched grinning lips.

"Goodbye, Frederick."

* * *

"I'll take it from here!" George yelled at her from the garden once she stepped out of the house. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw George's toothy grin and it took her exactly a solid 57 seconds to remind herself that this was George. She felt a sharp pang but it wasn't as painful as before. _Yes_. She thought. _I'm moving._

She took a leap.

"George!" she beamed at him and presented him an ear to ear smile, taking big steps so she could reach him faster. George shook his head at her childish attempt and jogged towards her.

"How's my French girl doing?" he took the stacked cutleries off her frail hands and kissed her top head.

She glowed. Sometimes she forgot she grew up in France for the most part of her life. "Je vais bien, merci beaucoup! Ça va? Ou est ta femme, George?"

"I have no idea what you're saying but fuck that was hot. Keep talking, luv. I'd leave Angie in a heartbeat just to listen to your rant." He winked and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

She winked back. "I know. Come on, let's be done with this! I don't want a stress Molly on my tail!"

"You know who else on your tail?" George asked once he finished preparing his side of the walnut-wood long rectangular table that could fit twenty-six people.

"Who?"

"Viktor, Zacharias, Cormー"

"Okay, George. What are you getting at here?" She put down the last fork on her side of the table and walked to the lake where her other brothers at. George linked their arms together and walked with her.

"What I'm trying to say is, you look happy these days. Any bloke I need to hex?" He eerily sounded serious. She really contemplated to lie but she hated the idea of lying to her family. Plus, sooner or later they would find out too, wouldn't they?

"Well. I figured you already knew there's one from your last visit."

"Cor! Of course I knew there's a bloke! But the questione is, who? You never said anything about him. According to my trusty source, he's older than you by ten years?"

"By trusty source, you mean one called Anthony Goldstein, I suppose?"

His eyes bulged and he unlinked their arms at once. "An agent would never expose his fellow agent! Agent A.G. did a tremendous job at delivering important intelligence surreptitiously! Good lad, he was!" he tipped his imaginary beret and attracted the other two brothers of them into their conversation. She grunted. Of course Anthony would tell George! He'd been crushing on him since school years! She looped her arm around George's for strength.

"Well, he's my regular customer. My very first customer, incidentally. And we kind of get on, you know. We… we clicked." She blushed scarlet. Her three surrogate brothers stared at her like she had a third head or whatever weird thing sprouted out of her head.

 _Why does it called growing hair and not sprouting hair? They literally sprout out of the scalp._ She mused. She came back from her moment of revelation only to see three gaped mouths.

"Clicked?" Ron said with pronounced distaste.

"Is he nice to you?" Charlie asked her politely, a contrast reaction of that Ron's. She nodded in affirmative to answer both questions.

"Does he pay for his drinks or does he expect you to give him free food or anything freely since you like him so much?" George sounded harsh but she knew his intentions were good. Her previous French boyfriend wasn't the nicest man out there so George, her sweet George, flew to France just to gave him one good jab and a memorable right hook on his lips that had did wondrous French things to her. She squeezed his arm.

"He doesn't take advantage on me, George. He helped me with the café most of the time too."

"Is he the one who keeps wearing Bill's clothes?" Ronald narrowed his eyes dubiously. She looked down at her feet and slowly nodded.

"Ilenthimyourboxerstoo."

Ron heard her mumbled something about boxer which he most dreaded to know but still he _needed_ to know so he braced himself and asked, "I'm sorry, luv. Can you repeat that again but a tad l _ouder_ and _slower_ this time?"

She inhaled sharply and before exhaling she said in one breath, "I lent him your boxers too, Ronald!" Exhaled.

Her three brothers stunned for a moment then yelled at the same time.

"YOU WHAT?!"

* * *

"It's almost lunch time, kids!" He called out to both his godson and his wife. He hummed some French song that his kitten always played.

 _"Why French songs?" He asked from his book. Françoise Hardy's J'aurais Voulu engulfed the quiet night. She closed her cafe early today just so they could cook their dinner together which they had enjoyed half an hour ago. They were now sitting across each other on one of the rectangular table beside the window with their own glass of mocktail, relishing their alone time. Without lifting her head, she answered him plainly, "because I grew up in France."_

 _He put down his book. "I didn't know that."_

 _"Now you know." She shrugged with her nose still in the book. He narrowed his eyes at her nonchalant reply. He swiftly snatched her book from her and put it on top of his._

 _"Hey! I want to finish that!" She protested._

 _He shrugged back at her. "Let's talk about real person here instead ofー" he peeked at the title of her book "ーOprah. Wow, her teeth disturbingly too white."_

 _She snatched her book back. "That's not nice! She's a strong woman!"_

 _"I know, kitten. I was talking about her teeth. Merely her teeth. Not her person. Admit it, kitten. It is pretty disturbing how pearly white they are."_

 _She glared at him before she examined Oprah: The Soul and Spirit of a Superstar's book cover which had Oprah's smiling face on it, showing a line of her straight shiny teeth, extra shiny teeth. She cringed. "I hate it when you're right."_

 _She tossed her book at him. He laughed and caught it easily and put it down, back on to the book he was reading. He leaned forward and kissed the outer corner of her left eye before he rested his chin on his left hand, elbow on the table. "So, France?"_

 _He noticed how her face lightened up at the mention of the country of love. "France was exquisite. Magnifique! I was born here in England but my family moved to France when I was 3 years old. To Lyon to be exact. Well, of course there's crime now and them. Pickpockets, hit and run your puppies, sneak out a book or two out of the city library (she blushed a tell tale of found guilty) Nevertheless, it was still unarguable a very beautiful city to me." She stared on the ceiling dreamily._

 _"I was a very smart child, as I've been told. I received an offer from one of this prestigious boarding school in Scotland. But I couldn't just leave my parents. Thankfully after discussions between my parents and the school's deputy headmistress, she offered us their other branch right there, in France. It was also a boarding school, but a lot closer to my family so I accepted their offer straightaway. At least I can see my parents on weekends. Oh, mister. It was just lovely! The school really shaped me in to becoming the woman I am today. You know how much I love my summer dresses, oui? Yeah it was because our uniform was this beautiful soft blue silk dress and it made me feel pretty!" She said adoringly. Her love of her old school and France in general could be felt in the air around them. He looked at her with a soft smile._

 _"Why don't we go to France, kitten?"_

 _She snapped out of her reverie and met his eyes disbelievingly. "Excusez-moi?"_

 _He could see the astonishment and hopeful glints in her brown eyes that he learnt to love so much. He leaned forward, looking at her straight in her eyes and caress her cheek gently with his right hand's knuckle._

 _"Voulez-vous aller en France avec moi?"_

 _Her eyes widened and she smiled brilliantly it was magical. He wouldn't mind if it was the last thing he looked at before he gets killed or get pushed off a cliff or struck by lightning, he wouldn't mind at all. He would treasure the picturesque scene before him to his death, into the after world, into oblivion, he would forever treasure her smile in his mind and in his heart. He was so deep in thoughts he didn't realize when she feverishly climbed up the table to get across and hugged him fiercely, straddling him on his seat._

 _"I would love to!" She kissed both his cheeks, his forehead, his nose, his jaw and his cheeks again. She avoided his lips gingerly. She didn't want to fright him off. She pulled back but still straddling him and now their faces were only inches apart. Apart enough to adore each other's face. Her hands locked around his neck. His hands locked around her waist. Françoise Hardy's Only Friends surrounded them. They just smiled lovingly at each other. No words needed. Because at that dreamlike moment, they both knew there was something more than just friendship waiting for the right time to come._

 _And they silently agreed to wait._

"We're coming!" His godson yelled from the third floor. He felt his excitement for his godson again.

"You're just fourteen years older than me, you know. Stop calling us kids!"

He laughed at his godson and ruffled his already chaotic hair. "Don't touch my hair! Ginny has been fixing it for me for half an hour!"

"Kid, you know it's no use. You inherited it from your father. There's no saving it."

His godson scowled at him. "Well you tell that to a pregnant Ginny and we'll see if you could live without your bollocks!" He paled at that.

He listened to his godson's advice so well that when Ginny asked him to behave at lunch because she finally got their best friend to join them today after almost two years of convincing her, he nodded his promise vigorously, without complain.

"Okay it's 12:00 p.m. Sharp. Let's go!" She disapparated excitedly before their eyes, leaving her husband and her father-in-law in a hurry. He shrugged at Harry and put on his black trench coat on top of his simple white buttoned up shirt and apparated away, his godson beside him.

The duo apparated in front of the house, right on the designated apparition point and worried themselves when they saw Ginny ran across the apparition point to the disoriented tall house of her family. Ginny burst into her childhood house with obvious excitement shone on her freckled face and said his and hellos to the guests politely and thanked them for coming. Well, it was her pregnancy announcement party after all. She looked for her son, James, and found him bundled in Audrey's arm while she and Fleur basked under the big tree watching Teddy and Victoire playing hide and seek. Little Molly slept soundly on Fleur's lap. Contented to see her son safely tucked in his aunt's arms, she went to the kitchen to find her mother.

"Mum! Is she here yet?!" She embraced her mum lovingly. Molly kissed her on both cheeks and jerked her head to the garden.

"She's outside with your brothers. I heard them talking about a guy she's seeing." Her eyes twinkling.

"I know!" She was about to run out to find her best friend or more like her big sister when Angelina, her sister-in-law, dragged her to the living room and urged the pregnant woman to tell her what the surprise was. That got her distracted and they started their girl talks when they heard three voices chorused at the same time, loudly.

"YOU WHAT?!"

He was talking to Bill and Percy about his Gringotts' vault when they heard the shout. "What was that all about?"

Bill smiled knowingly. "Apparently, they couldn't accept it that our sister found herself a bloke."

"But Ginny's married?"

"Not Ginny. She's not our real sister but she better off be one. Both Percy and I are closer to her than to each other." Percy nodded his agreement and added, "she's smart and always helpful when I stumped on reports."

"See what I'm talking about? Percy would never ask my help, wouldn't you Perce?"

"You would just make fun of me!"

Bill laughed and turned to look at him when his eyes widened as realization dawn on him suddenly. "Oh! I forgot you just got back to the living two years ago! Well, you've never met her but you have heard of her. We talked about her in almost every get together and every Sundays lunch."

"Oh, you mean Harry's and Ron's best friend? The brain ofー"

He didn't get to finish his talk with Bill. The other three gingers came into the living room; Ron and George scowled with displeasure and walked faster towards Harry and Ginny. Charlie who walked slower, right behind them, beamed with amusement as he made his way to Bill, Percy, and him. "Big news, brothers. Our little girl got herself a boyfriend and she isn'tー no, no. She herself doesn't want to share him with us."

"You know how stubborn she can be. There's nothing we can do if she's not ready to tell us," said Percy in his as-a-matter-of-factly voice.

"Well, yeah. But our younger brothers doesn't share the very sentiment, you see. And that's fun to watch." Charlie grinned.

The four men watched as George went to the gossip queen herself, their beloved little sister, Ginny. Whereas Ron, went straight to his best friend, the one and only, Harry Potter, the Chosen One himself. Both parties were whispering and what could only be heard from the whispers were "her regular customer" and "my boxers!" And "must be as tall as Bill."

He was too distracted with their curiosity that he didn't notice Bill and Percy left their spots to greet the said woman.

"There she is, Harry! Put some bloody senses back into her never-stop-growing brain!" Ron said with mock horror and shakily pointed his finger to his other best friend.

"Honestly Ronald, sometimes I wonder how you managed to be the best strategist of your age with that inclined brain of yours!" She huffed, obviously exasperated.

His ears perked at the familiar voice from behind him. His heart started to beat faster. Too fast! He couldn't move even an inch. He froze. He stucked. His dark brown ankle boots' heels glued to The Burrow's wooden floor.

The only part of his anatomy that could be moved were his eyes and it was useless because he couldn't see what was going on behind him, could he now?! For the first time in his whole life he wished to have Moody's magical eye. He didn't care if his eyes swirled around wildly forever. He just wanted to see, wanted to confirm who was the owner of the melodic voice becauseー fuck because! He just needed to know and Merlin it killed him that he didn't have the courage to just fucking turn!

"It's so good to see you finally join our weekly lunch after two bloody years. It's been too long!" Harry hugged her with his bone-crushing strength. She squealed.

"Harry! Let her go! She's blue!" Ginny saved her from her near-death experienced only to give her that experience by her own seeker-strengthen strong arms.

"You have tons of explanation to do, big sis! Don't you ever leave and be a hermit again! I'll make sure of that! If you ever do that again, and mark my words woman, I'll hex you to oblivion and glued that round arse of yours on mine!" Ginny said fiercely and she knew better to not take the pregnant young woman's threat lightly.

"But you guys still see me now and then, yes? You even crash my place last night whining over mocktails!" Harry turned his head to her wife so fast she worried her best friend might have broken his neck.

"You went to her place for a pint?! Ginny, you're pregnant for Merlin's sake!" he yelled at his pregnant wife incredulously, other occupants forgotten.

"Stop being so dramatic, you two! It was mocktail _not_ cocktail. You know I don't serve alcoholic beverages, Harry. So don't worry about it. But for now, please get your enthusiastic wife off me! I might die from my lack of oxygen before you could continue with your pregnancy dramas!" She put her hands in the air in effort to wriggled herself out of her little sister's deadly embrace.

A loud clinking sound of cluttered silverwares could be heard and everyone turned to the source of the noise. Molly stood there with both her hands covering her mouth, eyes pooled with tears, the silver tray abandoned on her feet and small sized treacle tarts sprawled on the floor.

"Pregnant?! Oh thank Merlin! My Ginevra is pregnant, again! Oh, Arthur! We're going to be grandparents!" Molly ran to her husband who was a step behind her, a tray of more treacle tarts on his hands, still stunned by the news. She took the tray from him and put it on the coffee table so they could hug.

"I'm going to be a grandpa! Again!" He announced with tears of happiness in his eyes. Both of them started hugging everyone in the room.

Well wishes to the pregnant woman erupted the small living room. Everyone was hugging Ginny, and clapping Harry on his back. After rounds of hugs and pleasenteries, most of the ministry's officers left the living room to the garden for lunch.

Ginny found her again amidst the chaos and forced her to join her girl talks with Angelina. The three girls were soon joined by Charlie, George, and Ron, and six of them stood in a circle, exchanging their latest news and gossips. Percy joined them with Audrey and Fleur following suit. The kids now went with their grandma Molly for lunch. James, her godson, now cuddled up in her arms, reminded her of Crookshanks. Molly rushed back into the living room and took James away from her.

"I'll take care of the kids. You just enjoy your day, dear."

She pouted but she didn't dare to argue with Molly. The matter of her mister fortunately slipped off her brothers' mind. Or so she thought.

"Harry, you should introduce her to your godfather. After all, they never actually met." Bill told Harry what he just realized a few minutes ago. Harry just realized it too.

"Wow. You're right. They've never met even after all those mayhems, they never actually met!" Harry searched for his godfather, thrilled to introduce the two most important people in his life to each other. He gleamed when he found him stood weirdly straight and tense, still glued to his spot from before despite all the hustles.

"Come here, big guy! I want to introduce you to the brain of the golden trio! Without her, Ron and I wouldn't even last a few days!" Harry practically dragged him. He still couldn't feel his numb legs. And when Harry stopped right behind that curly brunette hair which he knew too well, his heart started to miss a few beats, ー _"it's called ectopic beats,"_ his kitten once told him when they checked their blood pressure and pulse with that weird small machine that she brought home once after her monthly reunion with Anthony and the gangー and was now pounding, fluttering, beating irregularly that he could feel all those sensations in his throat and in his neck. He felt like dying. Like as if all the air in the room evaporated and he only left to his salvation, his life, his kitten,

his.

His godson was speaking. He saw his mouth moved, opening and closing at his words, but all he heard was a long buzzing sound overlapped with the sound of his hasty heart beats. He thought he was going to explode. He thought he was going to die. _Prongs, mate, I'm coming. I died of explosion, of self-combustion, of embarrassment to finally see my kitten, the best way to die._

His thoughts were proven wrong and way off. That wasn't the best way to die. Because when Harry spun her petite body that he knew fitted his perfectly, to face them, he confessed,

 _this, Prongs. This is the best fucking way to die:_ the perfect moment when their eyes met; just like their first meeting.

That beautiful brown that he would know anywhere. That brilliant grey that she would know anywhere. Both of them were staring at each other and all of a sudden, everything around them faded away into some blur. The world around them ceased to exist.

"ーdidn't see her for two years! Let me finally introduce two of my favourite people to each other. Sirius, this is my sister in every ways but blood; Herー"

"Hermione Jean Granger. The brightest **_witch_** of her age." Sirius cut Harry off and held his hand out, palm open specially for her small fair hand. She accepted it.

"Sirius Orion Black the Third. The **_wizard_** who cheated death." Hermione put her hand on his palm and he squeezed her hand before he brought it to his lips and kissed her inner wrist right on her pulse vein with tender care.

Their eyes met again and both of them know what they see in them. It was something that they've agreed to wait for.

Love.


	5. Fin

It took them seven months to finally know each other's name.

And none of them complained. They stood there, still, unmoving, in the living room full with family and friends, two hands still entwined, staring at each other, as the final piece had now been slotted into place, perfectly.

Harry fake cough brought them back from their trance. His eyebrows rose as high as his hairline. "Alright?"

" _All_ right." Stressing the first word. Sirius answered with a fond smile, eyes still locked on Hermione's.

Hermione blushed and smiled sweetly back at him, tightening her grip on his hand. "Yeah. All is right."

.

.

 _ **Fin.**_

* * *

 _ **Favourite guest of mine** : aaah! No words were enough to tell you how much your reviews meant to me. You were there, watching over me since day one! I hope this fic did its justice for you! Thank you for all your reviews, your words of encouragement, and just for simply existing! I love you thiiiiiiiiiiiiis much! x_

 _ **BrightestStar182** : eeee thank you! I hope his 'almost meeting her brothers'' scene met your expectation! I've been wanting to hold the suspense as long as I could! thank you for your review! I appreciate it so much you have no idea! x_

 _A/N: Thank you for reading my very first published fanfic. I've posted a ONE-SHOT of one rare pairing, **My Boy**. It was an experiment on trying out another genre, M rated._

 _As you might noticed there's still a lot of things I've left unanswered and it is meant to be left unanswered in this fic because my next fic will answer it all._

 _Please favourite this story and leave a review!_

 ** _Before They Met will be posted on September 10, 2017._**

 ** _Follow me to stay alert._**

 ** _Thank you once again!_**

 ** _x_**


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